Complicated
by Pickle's Song
Summary: This is an[other] Aurikku ... sort of a pre-romance thing. In the middle of nowhere (figuratively), Rikku watches Auron and ponders over him.


Complicated  
  
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My pre-fic note: Okay! Here's another Rikku POV fic! They're really fun to write! I've noticed how I have this really elegant writing tone, and it doesn't exactly fit Rikku, but . . . Which reminds me; I actually AM working on the "prequel" to "My Shooting Star". I hope I'll get it finished enough to post it!  
  
Anyway, about this fic, it's just a one-shot fic, I guess. I wrote it in a notebook while I was on a school trip to Disney World, and I've edited and added a bit, but other than that, it's just one of those spontaneous things. There's no particular setting, and as for the "tournament" that Rikku mentions, that was just a random idea I had.  
  
As far as dedications go, this fic is for Faded Jae.  
  
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I watch him training. His moves are elegant and timed, not quite as fluid as Tidus's, but still with a practiced swiftness. I've been watching him for hours now, sitting still as stone, watching him expertly swinging his sword as if dealing blows to an imaginary fiend. He never seems to tire. So absorbed he is in his training, that he doesn't even seem to notice me. But frequently he pauses almost right in the middle of a routine. Even then, he doesn't see me.  
  
And there he goes again. He stops, lowers his sword to rest it on the ground. He pushes his glasses up his nose with a forefinger and stares off into the distance, deep in thought.  
  
I wonder what he thinks about? What's in his mind? It's something unfathomable, I'm sure, something secret and dark, some tragic memory that he can't let go of.  
  
I take the time to study him again, perhaps for the millionth time that day. With his coat and collar removed, I can see his face. There is a scar on his neck, a deep scar, adjacent to the one on his face, over his eye; it runs down beyond the barrier of his shirt. I fleetingly wonder whether it's on his chest and torso as well, then blush furiously at the brief image of a shirtless Auron that flashes through my mind. I'm infatuated with him, I can't deny that, but I don't like him that much, do I?  
  
He continues staring, though I can't tell what he's staring at, with his eye hidden by his shades. Now he bites his lips gently, a very childlike - maybe even nervous - gesture. It is a little thing, yet something that one would never expect from Auron. I feel a brief rush of energy sweeping over me, leaving me lightheaded and dizzy. He's so fascinating. So mysterious. It's . . . magnificent.  
  
My body quivers in excitement. Without thinking, I reach up to my neck to take hold of one of my braids, twirling it around my finger. That one small movement tears him from his daydreaming and finally he notices me. His piercing gaze fixes on me, and his brows draw together in what is seemingly disdain.  
  
I force a weak, rather sheepish smile. "Hi." I say in a tiny voice.  
  
He doesn't reply at first. There is a sheen of sweat across his body, glistening in the bronze glow of the setting sun. He passes his left hand across his forehead, looking away from me now. "What are you doing here?" he asks me, in that same cold, emotionless voice that is his.  
  
"Watching you," I reply, hoping my tone of voice didn't contain any of the attitude I use when scolding him. I've rebuked him time and time again for being too harsh, but I don't want him to think that's the way I'll always speak to him.  
  
"Hmph." He turns his back toward me and swings his sword up effortlessly bringing it to rest upon his shoulder. It is precisely the reaction I expected of him.  
  
He doesn't want me there, I can tell. I feel a little hurt. Of course, it's not the first time he's tried to brush me off. Tidus always tells me that he's just weird like that, and not to take it personally, but I always do anyway. I can't help it. I just don't like being rejected. In truth, I'm not very used to it. My father says I have some sort of natural charm to me, that makes people like me. Some, like Wakka, don't immediately make the connection that I am Al Bhed. And most of them, if and when they find out, are still somewhat friendly to me.  
  
Auron's the exception there, though. He's the only one I can't get through to, who I can't understand. All the others - even Lulu, apathetic as she may be sometimes - have warmed up to me. But not Auron.  
  
How ironic. The one person who doesn't like me is the one person I'm infatuated with.  
  
He's still standing there, waiting for me to leave. A little unsteadily, I get to my feet, rubbing at the numb feeling in my backside.  
  
I want to say something to him before I leave. If I don't, it'll frustrate me for the rest of the night.  
  
"Um, I'll be cheering for you at the tournament tonight," I mumble, watching the steady rise and fall of his shoulders.  
  
"Thank you." He replies curtly, without one hint of sincerity in his voice. I know his ways well enough to where I can tell that what he means is, "Don't talk to me; just leave me to myself!" Oh, I can almost hear him say it.  
  
I sigh, blowing my bangs up into the air. I try one more time. "Good luck, okay?"  
  
Silence.  
  
How rude.  
  
I slowly walk away, feeling a little bit sad, and a little bit angry too, but mostly confused. Why does he act like this? I ask myself. Why?  
  
I sigh again. There's just no puzzling him out.  
  
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My post-fic note: Grrrr . . . this makes me wanna hit Auron and huggle him at the same time!!  
  
There is some definite chemistry between these two! I'm noticing it in the game, and it's so much fun to WRITE about it!  
  
(By the way, while I was at Magic Kingdom, I saw a guy who worked there who looks A LOT like younger Auron. I was giving him goo-goo eyes! And I don't give goo-goo eyes to just ANYONE! Unfortunately, I didn't get a picture of him. ;_; )  
  
Anywho, give me a review or an email or something. If you're lucky I'll tell you about my longer fic . . .  
  
~Meow!~ =^..^= 


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